


We Don't Have To Dance

by dumbteenz



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Apocalypse, Five is a sweetheart, M/M, Nihilism, do not interact if ur over 18 this is 4 us teens, if you're over 18 and u like 5 that's gross fam, just making it very clear uwu, not including flashbacks, once again don't interact if ur not between the ages of 13-17, seriously, teenage relationship, the reader and five are 15 in the main storyline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17918240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbteenz/pseuds/dumbteenz
Summary: y/n is the last boy alive.or so he thinks.Number Five/Male ReaderSet during the beginning of the apocalypse.





	1. The Boom

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me if this is boring for the first bit, I'm just trying to set up a platform.

I opened my eyes.

It was dark.

My head hurt.

(AlsoIWasn’tSureWhyIPassedOut)

Something was wrong. “Mom?” I yelled from the basement, hoping that someone would be able to hear. “Mom!” I tried again. No response. I proceeded to walk up the stairs and holy shit. What the fuck happened, I began to wonder. In retrospect, that’s fucking hilarious. We’ll never know. My house wasn’t too badly damaged compared to a lot of what I’ve seen, but all the shelves had fallen and there were broken dishes scattering the floor. The windows were blown out all around me and the world outside was a truly grim scene. 

I sprinted downstairs and put on some actual clothes, boxers and a singlet weren’t the ideal gear for what was to be an impromptu search and rescue mission. I grabbed a shitty duffle bag I had bought at an army surplus store a few months prior and shoved the nearest clothes I could find into it. Stupid me nearly forgot my inhalers. I shoved on some shoes and headed upstairs to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit and as many plasters we had. Fuck, I thought, staring at the mirror and looking myself in the eyes. No sign of anyone. Not yet. I tripped over my own feet slightly and stumbled back down the hall to the kitchen. I opened our defunct dishwasher where we kept our canned foods and shoved as much as I could in my bag when it suddenly hit me; the junk drawer. I rifled through and nabbed some matches and a sewing kit. I had worn my bag as a backpack and left my house, careful not to rip my jeans on any debris. In hindsight, I was a little too obsessed with preventing the inevitable, from the smallest to the largest of things. 

What I found outside made me redefine my definition of the word bloodbath. 

The smell of burnt flesh and hair made me gag. I walked around my yard when I saw a charred, barely there scrap of what was once cloth and a beige mess. Oh god. Foolishly, I approached and to my detriment lay my mother, shielding my younger sister with her torso, their bodies melted together, dripping like plastic.

That day, I cried, all on my lonesome.  
As I did the next.  
And the next.

By the fourth day, however, I wasn't alone.

That was two years ago.

As I soon found out, his name was Five. Justifiably, we were incredibly wary of each other at first, we met trying to loot the same 7/11 after all. He introduced me to his mannequin who’s name was Delores and we quickly grew close, albeit there was no one else to talk to so it was only natural. He told me about his family and how he got here, which was a tad unbelievable to be honest but we have no reason to lie to each other. We were each other’s only company, besides Delores of course. We immediately were joined at the hip, and to this day he knows me better than I know myself. He loves me and I him, but we still have secrets. Don’t get me wrong, I trust him with my life, but there are some secrets that stay between me and the grave, and vice versa. Like the fact that even though I love him, I’m hopelessly in love with him. 

Yeah, that’s something I’ll never say to his face.

Today, we shared the remainder of a can of chickpeas from some shitty health foods store which he’d insisted we raid after the twinkie incident. We’re currently hiding in a semi-stable public library after a storm fucked up the dominoes we were staying at. I’ve got him tucked up under my arm as he cuddles into my chest. He’s hurting my ribs a bit but it’s okay, he’s warm and sleepy. Our breaths are in sync and he has an arm around my back, swiping his thumb up and down in a silent melody. He’s so small. When we met we were the same height, but I had a growth spurt and am now X’X, while he remained 5’3. He’s still just as sweet though. Goddamn, I love that boy. How could you not? He’s absolutely perfect. I press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, y/n…” he trails off sleepily, still slightly tipsy. My throat turns to sandpaper and my mouth to cotton at this. “I love you too dorkus,” I say quietly, hating the weight and authority those words have over me. He hums contently against my chest and I pull up the fallen blanket from my knees. We have a big day tomorrow. The summer air is clean and dry so walking shouldn’t be that draining, but with asthma, you never know. The sky is clear out, so clear in fact, that I can almost see the stars amongst the smog. Most of the dust in the air fell a year or so ago, although some still remains. 

I fall asleep eventually.

My eyes fly open and my body jolts. It’s light out now. Five scrambles up from his spot on my chest in a panic. I think I might’ve had a bad dream, but I’m not too sure. “What’s wrong?” he sputters quickly. “Nothing, i-its nothing. I’m alright. I just need a second,” I respond, my heart slamming its way out of my chest. “I don’t know what that was, sorry,”  
“That’s okay, it happens,” He replies, still obviously concerned. God, he cares too much. It’s dangerous. “It shouldn’t have to anymore, there's nothing to be afraid of,” I say absentmindedly.  
“There's still plenty to be afraid of, y/n,”  
“There's not though. The worst is over, I’m alone, it’s peaceful. If I die, there’s no one to miss me, not anymore,” I wish I could say my words are sharp and cut the air like a knife, but they’re quite the opposite. They always have been. Instead, they come out shaky and soft, ever revealing my emotions and never giving me a chance to craft my own narrative, paint my own picture. That’s something I’ve always admired about five, his voice can hold emotion without turning into a whimper. “What do you mean?” He says and his bottom lip twitches ever so slightly. Shit, I’ve hurt him. “It’s not like that, I just meant that if I were to die, there’d be no lasting effect on anyone. No family to sadly recount my memory while sitting around a fire,”  
“What, are you saying I don’t matter?” He snaps at me. Even though I’m taller he’s still terrifying.  
“No! It’s just, we’ll both die one day and that’ll be the end. Not just of our stories, but of humanity’s very existence and when you consider that, there's not just real reason to make an effort to keep on living,” My voice is getting louder.  
“No, I get that but what about me? What happens to me if you die, huh?”  
“I don’t know? You might be sad for a bit but you’ll move on, you’re strong enough,”  
“I can’t believe you!”  
“Oh fuck off! It’s not like you’re a fucking saint either!”  
“Fuck you!”  
‘I’m leaving!” I scream  
“Fine!” He yells. His face is in the dark but I can still see the light reflecting off of his cheeks. He’s crying.

I grab my bandana to tie around my nose and mouth and stomp off. Fuck him.

I don’t need him.

Not at all.

(I’mLying)


	2. don't get ur hopes up

sup yall

i'm going to make this quick

i'm probably not going to finish this.

this year has been wild so far, and i've been so caught up in my personal life and struggles i've had no time to do anything outside of school n i don't like tua as much  
(also aiden gallagher is canceled n i don't stan anymore)

i did have a second chapter underworks and maybe i'll find the time/will to finish it but it's looking unlikely.

sorry if you liked it and are disappointed, but i have to take care of myself again.

-gabe


End file.
